


Stitched With Love

by greeneggs101, Violet_Janou



Series: And Hamish Makes Three: Expanding The Family [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 04:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeneggs101/pseuds/greeneggs101, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violet_Janou/pseuds/Violet_Janou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hal's favorite toy gets damaged, it brings up old memories of Arthur, the polar bear, and how he came to join the family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitched With Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flubber2kool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flubber2kool/gifts).



> This came to be from an idea about giving a back story to Arthur. Also, it came from a comment that was made on the fic Two Dads and a Bee. So we hope that you all enjoy(:

Mycroft looked at the monitor. He was a tad upset with what he saw; Hamish had been whisked away from the hose with his dads. Leaving Gladstone out to roam the flat and Arthur vulnerable. 

“Sir.” Anthea said as she knocked and entered into his home office. “We have the meeting about the Koreans… Sir is everything all right?” she asked seeing a different emotion on her bosses face. She knew the Holmes family wasn’t that keen on emotion but you could always tell when something was bothering them. 

Mycroft nodded as he looked up at Anthea. “Yes.” 

She knew it was lies so she tried once more to see if he would open up to her. “Are you sure sir?” 

This time Mycroft didn’t answer. He turned his attention back to the screen. Gladstone had seen the polar bear lying haphazardly on the bed and no doubt mistook it for one of his chew toys. Sighing Mycroft began to ponder the possibility of replacing Arthur, but he knew that such endeavors would be futile, though Hamish wasn’t as good at deducting as his Father; he was very observant and would sooner or later know that the polar bear was not Arthur. But then Mycroft began to wonder if Hamish even had an inkling where Arthur had come from. After all he was young and not yet two. 

Mycroft remembered. John and Sherlock had a case in Italy that took them away for two whole days, leaving the young Hamish with Ms. Hudson. Once Mycroft got the call that his brother and John had landed in Italy safely Mycroft made his way over to 221B to visit his nephew. 

Ms. Hudson was a little shocked when she opened up the door and saw the elder Holmes standing there but her shook soon changed as Hamish’s eyes lit up when he saw his uncle and he lifted his arms for Mycroft to hold him. 

“How are you Hamish?” he asked as he held his nephew on his hip. 

“Bored.” He informed his Uncle. 

Mycroft shuttered at the thought that Hamish was going to be found of the dreadful word like Sherlock was at his age (and still was). 

“I wanted to take him out but it began to rain and now my telly stopped working,” Ms. Hudson explained to Mycroft. 

Looking at his nephew Mycroft had an idea. “How about we go to the zoo?” he asked Hamish and then turned his attention to Ms. Hudson. “I will call and have someone come and fix the telly for you Emma.” 

With that Mycroft got Hamish bundled up in his winter coat, hat, gloves and scarf. He got the diaper bag all ready with extra nappies as well as some snacks and back up cloths. He then grabbed the buggy rom the flat, strapping his nephew in they were on their way to the London Zoo. He made a quick call to Anthea and she was calling someone to fix the telly. 

They arrived at the zoo a short time later, and the first exhibit they saw were the lions. Hamish decided they were lazy and moved on to the crocodiles (also lazy) and otters (mildly interesting). As they were walking Hal let out a squeal and pointed. Mycroft looked over and saw that the zoos polar bears were swimming in the water. “Myccy!” he cried out trying to move the buggy closer to the wall. Mycroft got the hint and pushed Hamish over. “White bear!” he called craning his neck to look at his Uncle. 

“There called polar bears, they live in the artic and love to swim.” Mycroft explained as he knelt down next to Hamish. He smiled, his liked how his Uncle knew a lot like his Papa. Laughing Hamish tried to reach for the bears. Mycroft soon stood up and unbuckled Hamish from the buggy and held him close to the clear glass. Putting his hands up Hamish pressed his nose up against it and watched in amazement. 

He was captivated by how such a big animal could move so gracefully through such blue water. “Me swim.” He said to his Uncle never once taking his eyes off the bears. 

Mycroft chuckled. “Sorry, we can’t swim with them Hal.” 

Furrowing his brown he pushed his lips together like John. He said nothing more but just watched. They stood there for an hour, watching them swim, play and get fed. Hamish didn’t want to leave but his stomach was hurting for he was hungry. “Food?” he asked his Uncle finally tearing his eyes away from the glass. Despite Hal speaking up about leaving he did so reluctantly. The polar bears seemed equally sad to lose tis captive audience. As they looked for someplace to eat they passed by the gift shop and something caught Hamish’s eye. 

“Stop!” he yelled. Mycroft saw his small hand pointed. He smiled as he turned the buggy and they headed on in. Worried about what had caught Hamish’s attention he stopped as he saw the plush white polar bears. Leaning over Hamish grabbed the one that caught his eye, hugging it he looked back up at his Uncle. 

Mycroft sighed. Toys bought at the zoo were expensive but it was going to be inevitable that he would walk about with a polar bear for Hamish. He paid for the bear and headed on out of the store. Hamish held onto the bear tight as they exited the store. He was now ready for lunch. 

From the choices that they had in the zoo Mycroft wasn’t too pleased (not a single piece of cake in sight) and so he took Hamish out to Lunch. They went to a local restaurant he frequently visited as well as he knew was safe to bring his nephew to. Put Hamish in a booster seat and his bear sat next to him. Mycroft ordered Hamish (as well as his new friend lunch). 

“Do you have a name for your new friend?” Mycroft asked Hamish as his mobile went off. Mycroft answered it. As he walked Hamish looked to his right at his polar bear, he did need a name. as he looked around he heard his Uncle talking. “Tell Arthur that it’s fine. Yes, all cleared up. Have a great day as well.” Putting away his mobile Mycroft was about to pick up his fork when Hamish looked at him. 

“Arthur.” He said. 

Stopping Mycroft realized that Hamish was more observant than he lead on. “That is a fine name.” he said. “Now let’s finish our lunch.” 

Once they finished Mycroft paid for lunch he and Hamish headed back to 221b. When he got back Mrs. Hudson was happy to see that Hamish was happy and alive. She noticed that he had a new companion as he arrived home. “Who do you have their dearie?” 

“Artur.” Hamish said holding up his polar bear. 

Mrs. Hudson inspected the bear and kissed it on the nose. “What a nice name, why don’t we get you out of the coat. Your Dad and Papa are going to be calling soon.” Mrs. Hudson unbuckled Hamish, as his feet his the ground he wrapped his arm around his Uncle’s leg and squeezed. 

Kneeling down Mycroft gave his nephew a kiss on the forehead as he held up Arthur. He gave Arthur a kiss before Hamish ran into Mrs. Hudson’s flat. Mrs. Hudson thanked Mycroft for getting her telly fixed as well as spending the day with Hamish. 

“Sir.” Anthea said again as Mycroft broke out of his memory. “The Korea meeting.” Nodding he looked back at the screen seeing that his brother, brother in law and nephew were arriving home. 

Hamish ran up the steps and immediately began to yell at Gladstone. Taking the toy gently from the dogs mouth, he seemed to be on the verge of tears. “Gladstone you bad evil dog!” he yelled as John and Sherlock watched. The first time in 6 years Hamish yell at his dog. 

“Hal is everything okay?” John asked his son as Gladstone ran into his crate. 

Hamish ignored his dad as he walked over and kept yelling at Gladstone. “This is a very special toy and I told you not to touch him! Now you get to stay in there all night!” 

John looked at Hal, his son being old enough at twelve to not need stuffed animals. “What do you mean special?” 

“It’s from Grandma, though it’s nice, but we could always get you another one.” Sherlock explained to his son. 

Hamish looked at his father, his eyes glazed over with tears. “It’s not that Papa! Gah!” Hamish huffed as he ran up to his room. Running up the steps to his room Hamish slammed the door. John sighed and went back downstairs. Sherlock just looked at John questionably. John shook his head. Hamish eventually came down an hour later with Arthur carefully cradled in his hands. He looked up at his dad. “Dad, Arthur needs to go to surgery.” He then turned and looked at his Papa. “You need to be the nurse.”

Sherlock looked at John. It was bothering him why he didn’t know the importance of Arthur. And he didn’t want to be the nurse. 

“Bring him over to the operating table.” John said as he walked into kitchen and moved Sherlock’s stuff off the tall table. John then went to get the sewing kit. 

Hamish pointed to the sink. “Wash your hands.” 

Huffing Sherlock did as he was ordered by the 12 year old. 

John laid Arthur gently on the table and Sherlock was delegated to finding the thread and needle. After Sherlock cut off the thread and threaded the needle, John though his son how to take small stitches. Hamish watched intently and took over when he felt comfortable. Slowly, Arthur began to come together again. The ripped seam near the head was sewed together and the detached leg was re-stuffed and sewn back on. 

Once Arthur was all patched up Hamish kept him on the table to rest. John put away the sewing kit and looked at his husband. “Are you truly that upset about being the nurse?” 

Sherlock shook his head. “I don’t think Arthur came from Ms. Hudson.” He told John. Leaving the kitchen Sherlock confronted Hamish about the toy. “Why is it so special to you?” 

Hamish looked up from his seat on the couch. “It has sentimental value to it Papa, that’s all.” Hamish said as Gladstone whimpered from his crate. Sherlock narrowed his gaze on his son. “What?!” Hamish asked not sure exactly what his Papa wanted. John placed a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder telling him to back down a little. 

“Who gave him to you?” Sherlock asked as he relaxed a little and John removed his hand. 

Hamish shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. He came from the zoo though, his tag used to say so. I thought it was you guys.” Hamish looked up at Gladstone. He stood up from the couch and walked to the crate to let his dog out. “I’m still mad at you but I’ll take you for a walk.”

Hamish attached Gladstone’s leash to his collar and headed on out of the flat. Sherlock plopped down in his grey chair and began to ponder even more where Arthur came from. “We brought Hamish to the zoo after he had Arthur. It was after he turned two we went.” 

John tired hard not to chuckle, seeing Sherlock this confused made him a little happy. “Well,” John said as he walked behind Sherlock, wrapping his arms around his neck he kissed him gently on the side of the lips. “he got Arthur when we were on that casein Italy.” 

“Right with-” Sherlock stopped as it dawned on him. Though he was shocked, he knew who it was. 

John kissed Sherlock again and spoke, “it doesn’t matter where he got it from. As long as he loves it.” 

Sherlock closed his mouth and huffed. “Medaling brother.” 

~~~

The following day Mycroft stopped by 221b to check on Arthur’s recovery. Hamish had let his Uncle in to show him Arthur, who was still in the kitchen a little worried to pick him up. “He is okay. Dad patched him up.” He explained as he sat in the kitchen with his Uncle. Both his Dad and Papa were on a case (Thanks to Mycroft). “Did Dad tell you what happened?” 

Mycroft shook his head. “I just knew.” 

Hamish didn’t ask. He stopped and then looked up at his Uncle. “Want to go to the zoo?”

Smiling Mycroft nodded his head. “You’re not too old to go to the zoo?” he asked him. 

“Nope. Unless you don’t want to go. I don’t know if Korea or the rest of Europe needs you.” 

“I think Auntie can handle it.” He said to his nephew as he stood up and slipped on his jacket. Hamish put Gladstone in his crate, grabbed his jacket and slipped his trainers onto his feet. Looking at his Uncle they headed on out of the flat and toward the zoo. The walk was quiet but Hamish was happy to be spending some time with his Uncle. 

When they arrived at the zoo they looked at the lions (Hal still thinking they were lazy) the crocodiles (still lazy) the otters (not as bad, but they did remind him of his Papa) and then he came to the polar bears. Walking up to the glass he pressed his forehead against the glass and watched. “Still fascinating?” Mycroft asked. 

Hamish turned his head and smiled. “Yes. They are brilliant.” 

Mycroft could almost see the almost two year old standing there. But he shook his head to see a tall thin almost teenager whose hair was dark brown and looked a mess, much as his Fathers did at that age. Hamish nodded his head as if he knew what his Uncle was thinking. Walking up next to his nephew they stood there watching the polar bears.


End file.
